


Make-Out Point

by Cordelia_Sun



Series: Personal Indulgences [5]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Bickering, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Starburst Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7079329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordelia_Sun/pseuds/Cordelia_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John explains the concept of bases... and we're not talking baseball here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make-Out Point

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Starburst Challenge #91 over at terrafirmascapers.com

“Busy are we?”

John twisted round in the pilot's seat of the transport pod to find Aeryn regarding him with a sardonic expression.

He pointed to the pod's controls in a show of mild indigence, “I’ve been trying to patch the pod into the Halosian ship. Save us having to manually open the hanger when we leave.”

“Oh,” Aeryn replied, enlightened, and gave him an approving nod, “Right. Good idea.”

“Did you get anything useful?” John asked, craning his neck to inspect the crates she'd hauled into the cargo area.

“Not much. Some medical supplies,” Aeryn said with a dismissive shrug, “ammunition for weapons we don’t have, but they have some trading value.”

"No food? Pizza? Chocolate? A crate of beer? Whatever passes for Halosian junk food?"

“You don't want to know what passes for Halosian junk food.” She gave him a revolted frown and John decided not to delve any further for specifics on Halosian cuisine; they were desperate, but not that desperate.

He turned back to the pod controls with a disappointed shake of his head. After their body swapping adventure a few days earlier they were on salvage duty stripping the wreckage of the Halosian ship of anything they could find that was worth something. Turned out to be very little.

In truth, being here with Aeryn was awkward, but Zhaan's hand was too injured to help, Rygel laughed in their faces and no-one could get a sensible answer out of Chiana or D'Argo. John vowed to make the best of it and, in fact, they'd worked together well.

After a few moments he became aware of Aeryn standing over him in stern silence.

“You waiting for something?” John glanced up with innocent eyes, well aware she wanted him to move so she could pilot them back to Moya.

“You’re in my seat.”

John made an exaggerated play of looking around the seat as if searching for something, “Nope. Pretty sure this is my seat.”

Aeryn narrowed her eyes and John could see the tension snap into the set of her jaw. He flashed her a cheesy smile then turned his attention back to the control panel before his nerve broke; he rode out the burn of her glare on the back of his neck.

“You can stand there all day,” he said with brave cheer, “I’m driving.”

After a few more moments of silence Aeryn let out an exasperated huff and stomped to the co-pilot seat, “You’re ridiculous, you know that don’t you?”

John winked at her, enjoying the small victory, and Aeryn returned his wink with a scowl, but there was no venom in it.

He began the starting sequence and punched in the control to open the hanger doors, which began their slow cycle open to space with a high-pitched whine. The pod lurched and pitched as the ship's tongue-like landing pad rose and extended up and out toward the opening doors.

Sudden startling flashes of green and blue lights bathed the hanger in disco strobes before winking out completely, plunging the hanger into pitch dark. There was a whine, a clunk, a worrying metallic crunch and the doors stopped moving.

“What did you do?” snapped Aeryn.

"Me, I didn’t do nothing," said John as he prodded the pod controls in mostly random sequences.

"If you didn’t do nothing," she said in what John thought of as her _'I'm reasonable, but you're an idiot'_ voice, "then you _must_ have done _something_."

“What?”

They shared respective looks of puzzlement and irritation.

“I think the Halosian ship is still suffering intermittent power drain," John said, "dropped the connection with the pod. Don’t worry about it. The power should be back up in less than an arn.”

“Should be?”

John shrugged his answer.

“This is typical.”

“What is?”

“You,” Aeryn said in an amiable tone of superiority, “you’re a disaster, John Crichton, everything breaks when you’re around.”

“That is not true!” John protested, but his mind flashed to the last time he was stuck on a pod with Aeryn. He grinned at the memory and conceded, “well, maybe it’s a little true."

Aeryn graced him with an amused _‘I told you so’_ look.

They sat in silence for several long microts and stared out of the viewport at the hanger doors half open to space. John drummed his fingers on his armrest in a half-remembered free form jazz rhythm. He added a tapping foot for percussion. After a few more microts he began to hum along.

“Frell this!" Aeryn announced, "I’m going to suit up and open the hanger manually.”

As she rose from her seat a power surge rocked the landing pad and pitched the pod backward, which sent Aeryn flying into John's lap. John grabbed her hips to steady her fall, but failed to stop the knee that plunged between his legs, "Arrrghh!"

"What's wrong?" asked Aeryn, and shifted her weight in entirely the wrong direction, the butt of her holstered pulse pistol slid into the space her knee had vacated causing John to squeal.

"Nghnggnngh!" explained John.

Aeryn glanced at his lap and her eyes widened with understanding. She stifled a laugh as she shifted her thigh out of the danger zone.

"Glad you're amused," John snapped and then puffed out a sigh of relief. His hands were still on her hips so he maneuvered her into a more comfortable position on his lap. There was another long awkward silence.

Aeryn broke first, "no long term damage I hope?"

"I'll survive," John shrugged and resisted the urge to ask her to kiss it better, "why don't we just... just rest here a while?"

“And do what?” She asked, lip curled in confused derision. John didn't know if it was the way she'd settled into his lap or if he was getting just a little twisted lately, but that look caused a sudden stiring that made sitting almost as uncomfortable as a swift application of knee. Inspiration struck him. 

“We could make out?” he suggested and suppressed a mischievous grin. Aeryn's frown deepened and she gave him a shake of her head, demanding an explanation.

“Back in high school--on a date with a _nice_ girl--we would take my truck and drive up to this little spot overlooking the lake. We'd park up near the water's edge, surrounded by tall trees. You could see the stars; the reflection of the moon on the water." John's voice dropped to a thoughtful whisper, "It was real quiet. Beautiful.”

He ran the tips of his fingers over the back of Aeryn's neck and she made no move to stop him. He directed her attention out of the view-port toward the half-open hanger doors where Moya waited against a backdrop of diamond strewn space, “this kinda reminds me of that.”

“And that's making out?” Aeryn asked, her tone softened, as she gazed out at the scene.

“Well, no. Making out is…” John paused and bit his lip, trying to think of the best way to explain it. He'd been messing with her, but now it didn't seem like a time for joking. He settled on simplicity, “kissing.”

“Kissing?” Aeryn twisted around to frown at him, “so you make a journey in a primitive land vehicle--at night I presume--to a remote location… to _kiss?_ ”

“Well, it sounds stupid when you put it like that…” He took a lock of hair, curled it around his finger and leaned in close, “you wanna make out?”

Aeryn looked back at the view and John was beginning to think she hadn't understood--or she had understood perfectly and was deciding how best to kill him--when she dragged her eyes away from the vista beyond and turned to look at him. 

They held eye contact for several slow heartbeats. Aeryn's gaze was direct and calculating until it flickered to his lips. She tilted her head towards him, but didn't come all the way. John slid his hand from her hair to caress the line of her jaw and gently drew her toward him until their lips met. The contact was soft and slow, chaste even, and Aeryn seemed to melt into him as she let her tongue run across his lips and dip into this mouth. Tasting him.

“Not the worst human idea I’ve ever heard.” Aeryn observed when they separated.

"Damn straig--" John muttered before Aeryn shut him up with another kiss. She took the lead this time and twisted around to straddle his lap. John felt a hand snake under the hem of his T-shirt... this girl was fast.

"Hey!" He choked on a laugh as her cool fingers splayed along his skin, "I never said I was up for second base!"

"Second Base?" Aeryn asked as she pulled away.

"Second base?" John grinned and let his hands drop to her waist and tucked them under her leather top-- _well she did ask!_ Heslid his fingers over her torso until they curled over the small soft mound of her breasts, "this is second base."

Aeryn hummed her approval and, to John's complete amazement, swept down the zip of the vest in one swift motion, shrugged it from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor.

"So there are different levels?" she asked as her hands slid back under his T-shirt.

"Um, y-yeah," stuttered John, stunned by the speed at which he'd found himself with handfuls of topless Sebacean.

Aeryn pinned him with an intense, interested, stare, "and how do you advance? Is there a rating?"

"Well," John chewed on his lip and tried to think of something to say, but was too brain fried by the sensation of her smooth skin under his hands and the press of her nipples against his palms. The dispassionate PK act she was pulling didn't help any. Finally he shrugged and said, "third base?"

His fingers fell to the fastenings of her pants and he paused a moment to allow Aeryn the chance to object, but she simply regarded him with amused eyes and a raised brow. She leaned back, allowing him enough room to pull down her zipper, and John let his fingertips play against the small triangle of skin exposed by her open pants.

He slid his hand inside, brushing against the tight leather and suppressed slight thrum of surprise when again his fingers failed to encounter any kind of underwear. It was a snug fit; Aeryn adjusted her position, arching over him on her knees, to allow him more room to maneuver. John held her gaze, drawn in by her bright and excited eyes, and took no small amount of pride at the slow smile that pulled at her lips as he touched her.

She responded with a thick moan and her face crumpled into a delicious rictus of pleasure; lips drawn back to expose clenched teeth. With fingertips pressed into his skin, she clung at his shoulders and rocked her hips, pressing against his hand. She drove the pace and John was happy to let her pilot this one. She pressed a deep, breathless kiss to his mouth and drew out his bottom lip biting at the tender flesh with an animal growl.

Her release came as a short high-pitched cry; sharp like the snap of elastic against delicate skin. She shuddered against him and squirmed against his hand until he withdrew.

Aeryn sat back, sucking in shallow shaken breaths, and gave him a vague nod.

"You approve?" he asked.

She didn’t speak. Instead she reached between their bodies to grasp his crotch and flashed him a tight smile as she palmed his arousal though his leathers. John groaned; the massage of Aeryn's skillful fingers through the thick fabric ratcheting the aching tension to an unbearable level.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said and scooped her into a broad embrace. He slid forward in the chair, trying not to fall on his face, while plastering Aeryn's mouth and neck with frantic kisses. With an entirely graceless twist, a tangle of legs and the crack of an elbow he maneuvered them both until Aeryn was pinned back in pilot's chair. He knelt awkwardly between her legs.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Aeryn rolled her eyes and rubbed her arm, but then she shrugged and snapped her attention back to him. She grabbed John's T-shirt and pulled him close; with her other hand she grasped at his zipper while John pulled at her pants until her leathers pooled around her ankles and his around his thighs.

Aeryn wrapped her arms around him and, fingernails digging into his backside, pulled him between her parted knees. John braced himself against the chair and pushed himself inside her. The tight space and tangled clothing restricted their movements to a hard and shallow grind of their joined hips; not beautiful, but effective. The intensity drew a strangled moan from John with each sharp thrust. Aeryn arched and clawed against him as his brain exploded with blue and green disco lights and the world shook. His release came with a desperate and surprised cry.

"The power's back?" said Aeryn.

"Hmm?"

Aeryn allowed him cling to her for a moment and then pushed him away with a polite, but brisk, wriggle. She tamed her hair and pulled up her pants.

"We'd better go," she said, scooping her leather vest from the floor and shrugging it on, "before the power drops again."

John nodded in dazed agreement; he wasn't quite sure what had just happened. It took him rather longer to pull himself together, by which time Aeryn had re-initiated the sequence to take them home. It wasn't until the pod took off from its raised launch pad that John realised something was amiss. He stared at Aeryn, who gave him a triumphant grin and a shrug of her shoulder.

"Hey!" he cried, "I said I was driving!"


End file.
